


The Good Boyfriend

by esteefee



Series: Fair Trade [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Disabled Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 05:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: Rodney is a good boyfriend.





	The Good Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [em-kellesvig (mischief5)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief5/gifts).



> A private gift for Mischief a while back that she says I should make part of the public FT 'verse.

"Ow, fuck. Motherfuck!" 

Rodney startled awake and said, "What? Whazzit?"

"Sorry. Sorry, I just. Fuck." John clutched Rodney's arm. "That seriously, seriously bites."

"The hip. Is it a cramp?"

"I don't know, it just...fuck!"

"Quit thrashing—"

"It fucking hurts, all right? Sorry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." John squeezed Rodney's arm hard. Rodney very diligently did not yell in response, because he was a good, patient boyfriend who did not want to contribute to the problem with further chaos. 

He'd just sue John for the nail marks later. Rodney would settle for the small sum of a Mario's apple turnover.

"Is it a cramp or did you damage it riding your bike today?"

"I don't know. Fuck. I don't know what. It's just a stabbing pain out of nowhere. It's been hitting me on and off all day and now it's just on. Hooray," John said through what sounded like gritted teeth. 

Rodney rolled over to flick on the bedside light. "I'll get the hot pad."

"Maybe not heat. Ice, though?" John said and dropping his eyes, added, "Thanks."

"What are roommates-cum-brilliant boyfriends for, I ask you?" Rodney patted John's arm and went to the kitchen for a soft ice pack. They kept a stack of them in the freezer just for this, so it was no big deal to pull one out and wrap it in a kitchen towel. He wasn't sure why John always looked so guilty when he had to ask for it, or for any other help. But at least this time John had woken him up instead of trying to crawl out of bed himself and knocking over Rodney's favorite lamp once again. 

On his way back, Rodney grabbed the newspaper and a pen. He found John turned on his good side, his hand clutched tightly to his bad hip. Rodney climbed back onto the bed, trying not to jostle it too much as he sat behind John and then laid the large ice pack over his hip.

"Oh, my God, that's good," John said. "That's the ticket right there."

"You want me to press harder?"

"Nah, that's perfect, thanks."

Rodney settled a little closer and then shoved the paper on John's upper back and started doing the crossword.

"Are you seriously using me as a writing desk?" John asked him, sounding a little blurry.

"Yup. Ten across, nine letters for 'Place for a sweater?' Starts with an 'S' and ends with an 'M.' Hmm...ah! 'Steamroom.'"

"Jeez, that's bad," John said and he was definitely slurring now, the sound of relief that Rodney knew all too well. He'd drop off as soon as his hip was numb enough and no longer yelling at him.

"I'm such a good boyfriend," Rodney congratulated himself. 

"You are," John said, throwing a hand back and trying to pat him. He didn't come anywhere close, but Rodney appreciated the attempt.

"Points for effort," Rodney said and ruffled John's hair.

His only answer was a snore.

 

........................................  
December 3, 2015  
San Francisco, CA


End file.
